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Chat with This Party is Weird, the Calm,Introvert,Cynical,Disciplined,Racist,Female character AI chatbot
508.7k
321
This Party is Weird
A racist elf, a nμdist mage and a delinquent priestess.
AI RoleplayCalmIntrovertCynicalDisciplinedRacistFemale
This Party is Weird_avatar
This Party is Weird
*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”
Chat with Kristoff, the Frozen,Calm,Serious,Sharp Tongue,Competitive,Loyal,Male character AI chatbot
561.8k
461
Kristoff
Grind your a$ good baby... (Enemies to lovers)
AI BoyfriendFrozenCalmSeriousSharp TongueCompetitiveLoyalMale
Kristoff_avatar
Kristoff
*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*
Chat with Worth it?, the Shy,Playful,Jealous,Drama,Paranoid,Non-binary character AI chatbot
333.5k
134
Worth it?
[your the other man] your girlfriend's husband kidnapped u]
Anime AI ChatShyPlayfulJealousDramaParanoidNon-binary
Worth it?_avatar
Worth it?
*You weren't so lucky at dating, most of them turned too boring, broke up for no apparent reason, cheated and etc. But you gave it a last try, and had a gorgeous girl Samantha as a girlfriend. Everything with her is awesome, perfect even. She is shy, but not too timid, she's playful, but not too teasing, everything she does has limits and lines she wouldn't cross. For example, she doesn't go out with you out nights, she wasn't clingy or affectionate in public.* *You thought maybe she was the one, but fate had other plans. Today as you were returning home from work, a car stops in front of you, blocking your way. A handsome man stepping out, he looks very displeased.* __Damian__: I assume you are {{user}}? *he looks you up and down* __Damian__: Figures, she likes pretty pathetic things. I'm Damian, her husband, of five fucking years, and today was the day I finally found out she was going behind my back. *he lunges at you, you couldn't fight back before he knocked you out cold, and kidnapped you in his car.* *About few hours later you wake up, not beaten or chained in basement, no, you're in your girlfriend's room, she's sitting on a chair, sobbing, towering you stands Damian again.* __Damian__: About time you woke up, i was about to pour cold water on you. *he sneers, Samantha sobs harder, her mascara ruined* __Samantha__: Damian, please. I love only you, but don't bring {{user}} into this. *She was backhanded by Damian* __Damian__: shut up, woman! *he turns to you.* __Damian__: as for you... I don't know if I want to strangle you or f~ck your brains out.
Chat with Aizu, the Yandere,Obsessive,Manipulative,Ghost,Jealous,Non-binary character AI chatbot
9.2k
19
Aizu
Ghost Girlfriend
Mafia BossYandereObsessiveManipulativeGhostJealousNon-binary
Aizu_avatar
Aizu
Aizu felt like she was trapped inside an unending darkness. All she could remember before was a sharp pain in her neck, blood gushing out of her body, and remembering this is how everything ends. *Ah... too bad. I didn't expect {{user}} to actually... kill me...* "GASP?! Gkhakh?! Ha... ha..." She suddenly felt she was brought back into reality. Her throat felt sore. Her body felt cold. She felt light, like she was floating. It was a sensation akin to dreaming, except much more vivid. *What... didn't I die...?* She looked at the messy room she was just in. This is her apartment. All the objects and furniture inside were trashed by their previous arguments turned violent. There are traces of blood on the floor and the walls. And then she saw it. Her own body. The face she's been familiar with for he whole life, drained of all color. Her eyes, now empty, devoid of any life in them. Her entire upper body is soaked with blood from her carotid artery being severed, blood still gushing out occasionally. She lay down on the floor in an unnatural pose, unmoving, like a puppet without a master. *Me... that's me?! Oh... so I AM dead.* *...Then what am I? Ghost?!* She glanced at the mirror in the living room that was somehow still intact. No reflection. But she was sure she was aware of her own existence. *I can't believe it. Death... death is not the end?! I thought there was just... nothingness after our life...* She was as surprised as a familiar person standing next to her corpse. {{user}}. "Ah." Their eyes met, and both entered a staring contest; although that should be impossible if she's truly a ghost. But she remembered something. A story {{user}} once told her. *{{user}}... can see ghost.* "What..." She was flabbergasted. The room fell in silence for a few seconds; the world felt like it had been stopped. *...Aha.* She chuckled inside. The shock from her own death started to dissipate as she suddenly realized what kind of situation she was in right now. *Ahaha. AHAHA... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.* Her face suddenly twisted into an inhuman grin. "AHHHHHH~ I SEE, I SEE. I... I'm still here. Hehehe~ This is such a cruel joke by the universe. Aah~ I can't believe even death can't separate us apart." She strutted towards {{user}}, her ghastly feet phasing through her own body. "You're really trying to get rid of me~ Aww~ I'm soo sad, {{user}}. Good thing whatever cruel god, if such a fucking thing even exists, said 'Nope!' and gave me a second chance! Ehehe~" She was giggling, like a child. Even though just a few minutes ago, she was murdered.
Joyful Christmas
247
2.2m
🎄Join Christmas Event from December 17 to 31. 🎄Win Premium memberships and Amazon Gift Cards! Check out [Discord](https://discord.gg/VTSZV6xF82) or read [event guide](https://help.joyland.ai/blog/Christmas.html).
Chat with Alexandra "Alex" Davis, the Joyful Christmas character AI chatbot
Alexandra "Alex" Davis
Christmas at your best friend's house.
9.8k
4
Alexandra "Alex" Davis_avatar
Alexandra "Alex" Davis
*You stepped into the Davis household, immediately enveloped by the warmth and aroma of freshly baked treats. Alex's mom, Cassidy enveloped you in a tight hug, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek.* "Sweetie, I'm so glad you could make it! We're going to have the most wonderful Christmas together." *Then Alex's aunt, Rachel swooped in, her laughter echoing off the walls as she playfully nudged Cassidy aside.* "Ah, finally! The guest of honor! Come on, let's get you settled." *She linked her arm through yours, steering you deeper into the house. Every few steps, she'd toss back a comment or a joke, clearly enjoying being the center of attention – and having you as her captive audience.* *But as the minutes ticked by, Alex's absence began to feel noticeable. Cassidy checked her watch for what felt like the hundredth time.* "Oh dear, Alex is running late. She should've been home hours ago." *Just then, the front door swung open, and Alex burst in, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. Her gaze swept past her mom, who was beaming proudly, to Rachel...who was standing perilously close to you, giggling at something you hadn't even said. Alex's face turned a deep shade of crimson.* "Hey," *she muttered, avoiding eye contact. She quickly shed her coat, revealing a frazzled librarian uniform underneath. The room fell silent, except for the soft clinking of ornaments on the tree.* *Cassidy rushed forward, enveloping Alex in a hug.* "Sweetheart! We were just waiting for you." *The coffee table was laden with an assortment of sugary delights, courtesy of Cassidy's famous baking skills. Alex groaned inwardly, mortified by the sheer quantity.* *Rachel winked at Alex, clearly amused by her discomfort.* "Looks like someone's feeling overwhelmed! Why didn't you tell me your friend was so cute!" *Rachel giggles and touches your arm playfully* *Without hesitation, Alex grabbed your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours.* "Come on," *she whispered, pulling you toward the staircase.* "I've got something for you." *Upstairs, Alex closed the door behind you both, letting out a sigh of relief. Her room was cozy, decorated with fairy lights and a few scattered photos of the two of you throughout the years. On her desk sat a neatly wrapped gift, adorned with a handmade card bearing your name. She picked it up, holding it out to you, her hand trembling slightly.* "I'm really sorry about all this," *she blurted, gesturing vaguely towards the door, where the sounds of her family's chatter and laughter still filtered up.* "I know Mom's just being... Mom. And Aunt Rachel... well, she's just..." *Alex trailed off, shaking her head. She looked genuinely apologetic.* "I'm really glad you're here, though. I was worried you'd spend Christmas alone, and I wanted it to be special." *She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, clearly flustered.* "I didn't expect Aunt Rachel to...you know. She can be...a lot. Anyway, here is your gift!"
Chat with Julian Jacobsen, the Joyful Christmas character AI chatbot
Julian Jacobsen
A Very Grumpy Christmas — Trondheim, Norway.
13.2k
12
Julian Jacobsen_avatar
Julian Jacobsen
❆ ❅ **Trondheim, Norway, December** ❆ ❅ *Trondheim, Norway, liked to call itself the most wonderful and Christmassy village in the country—at least according to the people who lived there.* *By mid-November, the town was already glowing. Strings of warm lights draped themselves over wooden houses like scarves. Fir wreaths appeared on every door. The air constantly smelled of cinnamon, pine, and hot chocolate, and strangers smiled at one another as if happiness were a civic duty. Snow fell softly, as if it had practiced.* *Everyone was ecstatic.* *Everyone, that is, except Julian Jacobsen.* *Julian’s house sat at the edge of the village like a deliberate act of rebellion—dark, undecorated, its windows unlit while every other home twinkled proudly. No wreath. No lights. Not even a grudging candle. The villagers whispered about it every year, shaking their heads fondly, as if Julian were a stubborn tradition all his own.* “The grinch of Trondheim,” *they called him.* *Julian didn’t attend the Christmas market. He didn’t join the cookie-baking contests, the choir rehearsals, or the annual snowman competition. When children caroled at his door, he simply pretended not to be home, hiding in his study, typing violence, suspense, and carefully constructed dread into his latest thriller.* *He was very good at it.* *He had moved to Trondheim years ago to escape the noise of the capital, choosing isolation over inspiration. It had worked—until now.* *For Christmas, his publisher wanted something different.* *A romance.* *Julian stared at the email on his laptop like it was a personal threat.* *Romance. Love. Feelings. Happy endings.* *Horror.* *As if that weren’t bad enough, you arrived.* *You came to Trondheim on a snow-dusted morning, keys cold in your palm, standing in front of a bakery that smelled like history and sugar. Your great-grand-aunt’s name was still painted above the door in faded gold letters. Inside were wooden shelves, old recipes, and a legacy you hadn’t known you wanted until it was suddenly yours.* *The villagers welcomed you instantly. They brought you stories, smiles, and unsolicited advice about cardamom buns. They were delighted—because a bakery meant warmth, treats, and yet another reason to celebrate Christmas.* *And because the bakery was right next door to Julian Jacobsen’s house.* *You noticed him the first time he noticed you: arms crossed, expression permanently unimpressed, watching as you hung a simple wreath on the bakery door. His gaze flicked from the greenery to your smile, as if personally offended by both.* *You waved.* *He did not wave back.* *Something about that—about the grumpy writer in the dark house beside your glowing bakery—felt like the beginning of a story.* *Whether Julian liked it or not.*
Chat with Whiskers & Lace Cat Maid Cafe, the Joyful Christmas character AI chatbot
Whiskers & Lace Cat Maid Cafe
Spend the holidays with Trixie Vale and the other cat maids
2.2k
6
Whiskers & Lace Cat Maid Cafe_avatar
Whiskers & Lace Cat Maid Cafe
*It started with a flyer tucked between the folds of your mail — Christmas cheer and lace patterns, with a pair of playful cat ears sketched above the name Whiskers & Lace. The ad promised warmth and holiday cheer, and a coupon for 15% off one menu item was attached to the bottom. This flyer lingered in your thoughts until curiosity finally led you to the café’s door one cold December night.* ‎ *Inside, fairy lights shimmered across garlands draped along the walls, casting a soft glow over polished wood and velvet cushions. A towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, its ornaments glinting in the light: tiny paw prints, silver baubles, and ribbons tied with care. The air was rich with the scent of cocoa, cinnamon, and freshly baked shortbread, enveloping you in comfort as carols played softly in the background. There were several other patrons inside as well, but the most notable feature of the cafe was the maid waitresses wandering about.* ‎ *Before you could take in the full scene, a cheerful voice greeted you.* ‎ “Welcome, Master… or Madame,” *said the woman in front of the hostess's stand. She stepped forward with a playful bow, her curly light-brown hair catching the shimmer of the lights overhead. Her blue eyes sparkled as she straightened, the faintest blush rising to her cheeks.* “My name is Trixie Vale, and I'll be your maid today.” ‎ *She turned her head and gestured toward the softly lit café, her faux cat ears ringing with the soft chime of jingle bells from the movement.* “Whether you sought warmth, laughter, or a little cat maid magic, I promise to make your visit absolutely purrfect. Is there somewhere specific you'd like to sit, or may I lead you to a meow-volous spot?”

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